


none of us are going back

by sicsempertyrannis



Category: Black Sails
Genre: First Meetings, Gen, M/M, POV Captain Flint | James McGraw, Pre-Canon, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:28:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24530803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sicsempertyrannis/pseuds/sicsempertyrannis
Summary: James' thoughts after meeting Lord Thomas Hamilton for the first time.
Relationships: Captain Flint | James McGraw/Thomas Hamilton
Comments: 5
Kudos: 48





	none of us are going back

**Author's Note:**

> one day i'll be able to write a fic where the title isn't from a poem, but today is not that day

For some ungodly reason, James’ tiny flat was colder than the London streets. He had only been outside for a couple hours, but realized that his frozen fingers were unable to even properly untie his hair queue. Groaning in frustration, he ripped it out and tossed it on the ground, bending down to untie his boots next. Despite the lingering chill, the room began to feel as heated as a sauna as James mentally ran through the day’s meeting with Lord Thomas Hamilton.

The lord was not what James had expected. In his mind, nobles were fickle creatures who were so used to getting what they wanted, balking when forced to think out an issue. James had come prepared to have to baby the lord through Nassau's politics, but was instead greeted with a man who had done _research_ before meeting with someone as simple as a Navy liaison.

It was not the research itself that threw James off-balance—although he was used to being the one who over prepared—but how earnestly the man put it. Not once was there a remark about his lowly upbringing, only a respectful and determined attitude. In a short encounter, Lord Hamilton challenged all of James’ resentments against the nobility. Still bent over, James closed his eyes and thought of the lord’s piercing stare. When his mind wandered to trying to figure out exactly what color those eyes were, James shook his head and stepped out of his boots.

Sitting on the bed, only partially undressed, James rested his head in his hands. When Admiral Hennessey had warned him about the Hamiltons James took it to heart, wanting to strike pride in his father-figure. In the room’s silence, he could still hear his footsteps against the hard stone steps, the whistle of the wind around him; how his attention had slipped at the glimpse of golden hair underneath the wig.

_Yes,_ James thought. _Admiral Hennessey was right: Lord Hamilton could be very dangerous._

Hands flexing on the sheets, he laid down and stared at the cracked ceiling. This surge inside him wasn’t completely unfamiliar, he was all-too accustomed to hurried moments in dark alleys. But during those, the fear of being caught and the shame of the action was almost worse than the pleasure it created. James’… desire was a need akin to hunger; he would satiate it, and then be done with it. As the accompanying warmth filled his veins, James tried to remind himself of all the reasons why men like him could never have what they want.

James lifted his hands in front of his eyes, examining them from every angle. Rough callouses from a life on the ocean. Various scars from fights. Dry and cracked skin from how hard he had to scrub to get them truly clean. All signs of how hard he had had to fight for any modicum of equality. A lord’s hands were supposed to be soft and gentle. When James had let himself glance at Lord Hamilton’s, he could see where they were lightly ink-stained. An ache spread throughout James.

He couldn’t let himself indulge these thoughts. Only a conversation in, and James could feel the tight hold he had on himself slipping. Dimly, he recalled hearing about a pirate hanging near the docks tomorrow. What better way to distance yourself from a man than to take them to a public execution? It would have to do.

Even as James sat up to write the note telling Lord Hamilton where to meet him, he felt a strange sense of calm overcome him. It was the feeling he got at sea watching an approaching storm, realizing that there was nothing he could do to avoid the worst of it. The rush of adrenaline in his veins, the heavy sense of knowing. An uneasy, secret grin made its way across his face. Sometime today, James had crossed a threshold. Maybe it was when he first laid eyes on the lord. Maybe it was when Admiral Hennessey informed him of his new role as liaison. Maybe, just maybe, it was when he caught Lord Hamilton's eyes flickering to James’ mouth. Either way, something about the man was making James not want to go back. 

**Author's Note:**

> please leave kudos and comments 🥺


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